Daryl and Sharona
by serendipities
Summary: Ever wonder about the story behind the whole white trash pet name thing? Well, I did. Here's my take on it. R&R, please!


Disclaimer: I don't own anything but my ideas. Even then, I'm not so sure.

A/N: Just some fluff. This is my first Meg Cabot fic so be gentle.

Considering what little time me and David get to spend with each other, during our anticipated reunions we'd usually be…you know. Going at it. Not going _at it_ at it. But sometimes it can get pretty steamy. Unfortunately, I was stuck babysitting Rebecca and one of her little friends that night (i.e. making sure they don't blow up the house), so we had to be, you know, a good influence and all. David, being the cool boyfriend that he is, totally understood and stayed despite the fact we really couldn't do anything. I mean, we got a little kiss action every now and then but still. It's not the same.

Anyways, we were in the TV room trying to look for something good to watch when he popped the question (no, not that question):

"Hey, Sam, how do you think your life would be like if you were white trash?"

I stopped flipping channels for a moment and turned to David. He had the most serious expression on his face, like he genuinely wanted an answer. I gave him a look, showing my fear for his sanity. He wasn't planning on us eloping and living the rest of our lives in a trailer park or something like that, was he?

"This is totally hypothetical, by the way," said David, reading my mind. "I'm not, like, planning on us running away to elope so we could live in a trailer park for the rest of our lives. It's just a thought."

I blinked. "And the award for the Most Random Question Ever Asked goes to…"

"It's not _that_ random," said David, totally deadpan. "The special on the History Channel made me think about it."

I flipped back to the History Channel. It was a special on Jesus. I blinked again.

"I might regret asking this," I began, "but how did you get from Jesus to white trash?"

"Well, Jesus made me think of _The Da Vinci Code, _which I thought was a pretty good book. Not brilliant but it sure kept me entertained. Then I thought about how the pope spoke out against it, saying that it 'falsifies the Word of Christ.' The Pope also said the same thing about Harry Potter, how it 'undermines the essence of Christianity' or some crap like that. I mean, come on, it's not even real; it's fiction. These books are here to keep you from robbing someone's house 'cause you're bored. So, then I thought about the latest Harry Potter movie, and how idiotic those Death Eaters looked. I mean, what was with those pointy hoods? They looked like they were members of the freaking KKK. Then, KKK led me to think about white trash, which led me to wonder: what would our lives be like if we lived in a trailer park?"

David was smiling now, probably because he realized how ridiculous he sounded. I stared at him for five seconds, blinking, before I couldn't take it anymore and burst into a fit of laughter. David joined me and we just sat there for a while, laughing.

"I knew I would regret asking," I sighed, wiping away tears. I then leaned up and gave him a swift kiss on his cheek. He looked surprised as he asked, "What was that for?"

I giggled. Jeez, ever since we started going out, I cannot do anything but giggle. "'Cause you're just so darn cute."

David made a thoughtful face, as if to contemplate what I just said. "Ok, I'll buy it," before leaning down for a real kiss…

"Sam!"

David started to pull away but I didn't let him. "Screw being a good influence."

"Sam! Do you know if we have anymore of Theresa's ginger snaps?"

I continued to ignore the voice, kissing David with much fervor. When Rebecca realized that I wasn't going to answer her anytime soon, she came to see what was up, even though she probably knew. Standing in the doorway, arms crossed and looking unimpressed, she said, "I can see that I'm being a burden, Sam, and for that I am truly sorry, but can you at least _pretend_ you're keeping an eye on me by telling me where the ginger snaps are? I promise you will have the rest of the night to pursue whatever lascivious activities you have otherwise planned."

_God, why is she such a smartass? _I lifted my head and turned to glare at Rebecca. "Cabinet next to the fridge, behind the graham crackers."

"Thank you." And she left.

I turned to kiss David again but he stopped me.

"You didn't answer my question," he said. "How do you think your life would be like if you were white trash?"

I sighed again. He was not going to let this go. "God, I dunno. I wouldn't have to go to Adam's Prep, so I guess I'd be happy."

David grinned. "Right and I wouldn't be miserable at Horizon."

I laughed. "Yeah, you would have to change your status from certified genius to juvenile delinquent."

David laughed as well. "Yeah and you would have to change yours from 'teen who saved the president' to 'teen who faces probation.'"

"Yeah," I said, starting to enjoy the conversation. "and my dad, in his wife beater, shotgun in hand, probably wouldn't let you come within two feet of me. On the account of your tattoos and police record."

"But then again," replied David, "everybody has tattoos and a police record."

"True," I said. "And Lucy and Jack would probably be stuck with two kids by now. And Rebecca's already a pothead."

"The only bright side out of all this," said David. "is that my father's not screwing up the nation."

"Oh, don't say that," I scolded, hitting him slightly on his arm. "You're dad's not screwing up the nation. Besides, if your dad wasn't running the nation, then an even bigger idiot would be." I cringed, recalling the president's opponent.

"I wonder," said David thoughtfully.

I decided to change the subject slightly. "Ok, so, now, that we've got our lives figured out, we need white trash names."

"What's wrong with David and Samantha?"

"Well, they don't sound white trash-y, do they?"

"They don't?"

"No. You need a name like Dirk or Dusty."

"Ok, so who am I?"

"You want me to choose? Ok, well, I don't think you look like either Dirk or Dusty. What about Duke? Oh, God no. How about…"

We went about this for a moment until I finally found a name we both liked.

"How about Daryl?"

"Daryl…" said David, considering it. "Daryl. I like it. Well, then, that means you have to be Sheryl. Sheryl and Daryl"

I wrinkled my nose, shaking my head. "The rhyming is cheesy."

"Alright…how about Savannah? No, I don't like it either. Do you like…"

Now, it was his turn to rattle off white trash sounding names for me. But as I have a tendency to be a little picky, it was a while before he came up with a name that I liked.

"Ok," he said finally, after staying quiet for some time, thinking of a good name. "I got one. And if you don't like it, you're gonna have to come up with your own goddam name."

He wasn't mad, though, as he was still smiling. David rarely ever gets mad.

"Alright, shoot."

"Sharona. As in the song, _M-m-m-my Sharona._"

"Sharona…" Believe it or not, I actually liked it. But I smiled and said, "No, it's stupid, come up with another one, Daryl."

David gave me look of mock indignation before grabbing me in a headlock and giving me a (soft) noogie. "Oh, Sharona. Such a kidder."

He loosened his grip, holding me in his arms as I put a hand on his chest, smiling in contentment. "Daryl and Sharona. Sounds very white trash-y. I like it."

David gazed at me fondly, that trademark grin on his face. "I like _you_."

"Yeah? Well, I love you."

"Nah, not as much as I love you."

"This," I said, kissing him long and hard, "proves that I love you more."

"That's nothing compared to this," he said, as he pushed me down on the sofa and practically devoured my mouth, his hands finding their place up my shirt.

"Point proven," I managed to gasp out. _Finally! We get to–_

"Sam! I've been looking all over the kitchen! I can't find them!"

I reluctantly pushed David away from me and groaned as I got up. "So much for promises." At the door, I glanced back at David. He was sitting there, face flushed and his sticky out-y hair more so than usual (I imagine I sported a similar look), still grinning that grin. I grinned back as I felt that stupid yet wonderful frisson. "I'll be back in a sec, Daryl."

His grin grew wider. "And I'll be waiting, Sharona."

A/N: Waddiya think? Review, por favor.


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